I begin to long for some little language such as lovers use, broken words, inarticulate words, like the shuffling of feet on pavement.
Virginia WoolfIt is equally vain,โ she thought, โfor you to think you can protect me, or for me to think I can worship you. The light of truth beats upon us without shadow, and the light of truth is damnably unbecoming to us both.
Virginia WoolfI find that when I've seen a certain number of people my mind becomes like an old match box -- the part one strikes on, I mean.
Virginia Woolf